SAINT JOAN 8!
KHJLENGEY \gravefy] Sit down, Joan.
JOAN [checked a little, and looking to Robert] May 1 ?
ROBERT. Do what you are told.
Joan curtsies and sits down on the stool between them*
Robert outfaces his perplexity with his most peremptory air,
ROBERT. What Is your name ?
JOAN [chattily] They always call me Jenny in Lorraine,
Here la France I am Joan, The soldiers call me The Maid.
ROBERT. What is your surname ?
JOAN. Surname ? What Is that ? My father sometimes
calls himself «f Arc; but 1 know nothing about It. You
met my father. He—
ROBERT. Yes, yes: I remember. You come from Don-
remy IE Lorraine, 1 think.
JOAN. Yes; but what does It matter ? we all speak
ROBERT. Don! ask questions : answer them. How old
are you ?
JOAN. Seventeen : so they tell me. It might be nineteen.
I dont remember,
ROBERT. What did you mean when you said that St
Catherine and St Margaret talked to you every day ?
JOAN. They do.
ROBERT, What are they like ?
JOAN [suddenly obstinate] I will tell you nothing about
that: they have not given me leave,
ROBERT. But you actually see them; and they talk to
you just as I am talking to you ?
JOAN, No: It is quite different. I cannot tell you i
you must not talk to me about my yokes.
ROBERT, How do you mean ? voices ?
JOAN, I hear voices telling me what to do. They come
ROBERT. They come from your imagination,
JOAN* Of course. That is how the messages of God
come to us.